'That's a most attractive pin, Dr. Najarian,' she said. 'The caduceus-symbol of everything that is noble about our profession. I would suggest that if you are going to continue wearing it, You commit yourself to conformity with the rules. Now, if you'd care to accompany me, we shall see what needs to be done for that patient of yours.'
Darden… Silve… Teagaden.. — Seated alone in the residents' lounge, Eric doodled the three names over and over again on a blank patient-history form, circling each one. Then he crumpled the sheet up and angrily threw it into the wastebasket.
It was nearing three in the afternoon. The E.R. was in a rare lull.
Ordinarily he could take advantage of such a spell by stretching his legs out on a folding chair and napping. This day he couldn't come close. For years the hospital had been a constant refuge for him. For years, Problems outside of work money, family, women-were all but banished the moment he entered the place. But now, thoughts of Caduceus were making it hard to concentrate fully on anything else.
After the confrontation with Sara Teagarden he had followed her into Room Four and had watched as she guided her surgical team through the evaluation and treatment of the GI bleeder. Eventually, as he knew she would, the surgical chief abandoned attempts at medical therapy and called the O.R. In just minutes an operating room had been readied.
As the patient was being wheeled from the room Teagarden had turned and looked at him in a most peculiar way.
'I know the choices we must make on this job aren't always easy, Eric,' she said, with a mellowness in her voice that he had never heard before.
Then, before he could respond, she turned quickly and left.
'Thinking about that brunette?'
Eric stopped rubbing at his eyes and looked up.
Tern Dillard was standing in the doorway.
'No. As a matter of fact I was wondering whom I might call to take out a contract on a certain gargantuan surgical chief.'
'You might have to wait in line… I don't know why she needs to behave like that. There was no excuse for talking to you the way she did. None at all.'
Eric shrugged.
'I've been able to brush it off by imagining how hard it must be for her to stand-in front of a mirror after she showers,' he said.
'Ouch.'
'Hey, forget I said that. I long ago vowed that when it came to nasty remarks, a person's family of origin and body habitus were off limits.'
'Forgotten. Although I have to admit, the is sort of… amusing.'
'That's not exactly the word I would have picked.'
'Well, guess what. I've been looking at that poster, and I think I remember where I saw that woman's brother.'
Tern poured herself half a cup of coffee, sat down beside him, and smoothed the flier out on the table.
Eric stared at the photo for a time, then shook his head.
'Think back,' she said. 'Remember that day you and your friend used your laser?'
'Sure.'
'Remember the Code Ninety-nine in the other?' room.
Eric's eyes narrowed. 'This guy?'
'Or a twin,' Tern said.
'I don't see it.'
'Of course you don't. You were only in there for a few minutes, and-don't take this wrong, now-you had other things on your mind.'
'Tern, that guy was beyond saving,' he said, with more defensiveness in his voice than he had intended.
'He was dead before he hit the door.'
'Hey, easy, Eric. You know that's not what I was saying.'
'Sorry. That scene with goddam Teagarden still has me on edge.
Besides, the-man in this photo is a computer troubleshooter. That guy was a drunk. He had a bottle of T-bird in his pocket.'
'I'm real good on faces,' Tern Dillard said. She stood. 'And I think that's the guy.'
'Maybe,' Eric muttered. 'Maybe so.'
Tern headed for the door.
'Just in case,' she said over her shoulder, 'I sent for his chart. It should be up in a few minutes. for that woman's sake, I hope I'm wrong.'
Eric's mind's eye flashed on the scene by the derelict's bedside, and on the slow E.K.G complexes he had chosen to disregard.
'I hope so too.'
'Carlisle Hotel.'
'I'd like to speak to Miss Laura Enders, please.'
'One moment.'
Eric cradled the phone against his ear and stared down at the notes he had made describing the unsuccessful resuscitation of a patient known to White Memorial only as John Doe. Despite Tern Diflard's confidence, he had been unable to match the face in the poster with the unshaven derelict he had briefly worked on that day.
Even if it was the wrong man, he rationalized, he might be of some help to Laura Enders. Tern had, as usual, been right. He had noticed.
'Hello?' She sounded a bit breathless.
'Laura Enders?'
'It's Eric Najarian. We met earlier today at-' 'White Memorial.
I remember. How did your patient do?'
'My patient? Oh, the GI bleeder. He's in the recovery room right now.'
'Do you always refer to your patients by their diagnoses?'
Eric smiled at the woman's perceptiveness.
'The leg in Seven, the stroke in Ten-I caution the medical students not to do it; then, when I'm not paying attention to what I'm saying, I do it too. Please don't hold it against me.'
'Don't worry. I watched you work, remember?'
'Thank you.'
'Sorry if I sound out of breath. I just ran in to change before hitting the street for my evening rounds. Boston's only supposed to have half a million or so people, but right now it seems like ten times that. I guess I should be grateful Scott didn't disappear in New York.'
For a few moments there was silence. Eric was looking down at John Doe's hospital record, wondering if it would be cruel to hand the woman even an ort of information, given the doubts he had.
'So,' she said finally, 'did someone at white Memorial recognize my brother's picture?'
'I, um, no. Not that I know of.'
'Oh.' There was disappointment in her voice.
'But we put them up in the lounges.'
'That's great. Thank you.'
'I'll see to it that some copies get posted in other parts of the hospital as well.'
'That would be good of you.'
For a few interminable seconds there was only silence.
'Laura,' he said finally. 'I… I was wondering if you might be free for dinner.'
'Tonight?'
'No, I'm working, and I don't ever know when I'm going to get out.
How about tomorrow?'
'Well…' She drew the word out, as if trying to find the most tactful way to Turn him down. 'Well, sure,' she said suddenly.
